Falling to Pieces
by Victine Shadow
Summary: My heart is stone and still it trembles (Javert/Valjean)


The first time Javert meets convict 24601, he thinks, _this one shall be difficult to break._

Many of the criminals here crumble under the weight of the brutal labour within the first year. The rest, long before the end of their sentences. When they are released - if they are released at all - their only thoughts are on survival, of finding the next mouthful of food, of the next roof to crawl under - they would never think of fighting, of running, of searching for anything else beyond abiding parole and avoiding being sent back to Hell. 24601 seems to be something completely different, even though Javert knows close to nothing about him. He's not all surprised to hear that 24601 attempts escape four years into his term.

He simply adds another thought to his opinion of the convict: _this one shall be a unique challenge._

* * *

24601 - or Valjean, as he insists on being called - is still defiant when he is told he will be released. Javert expects nothing less, and warns Valjean not to forget him. He sincerely hopes not - somehow, he also trusts Valjean not to, and suspects that this will not be the last time they face each other.

When he learns that Valjean has skipped parole, and has more or less disappeared, he is unperturbed. This means that hunting this convict - or ex-convict, however Valjean might like to style himself - is now his duty. _This shall prove interesting._

* * *

Javert rarely doubts. It sounds ridiculous, but Monsieur-le-Maire must be Valjean. Even if the resemblance isn't all that strong, he knows, instinctively. And Valjean recognises him - for the briefest of moments, the mask falls, and surprise and alarm flares in the former - no, current, as he has broken his parole and is a wanted crook - criminal's eyes. That split second is almost enough for Javert to smile, or at least arrange his face into something close to it.

But then he is told that another, some fellow called Champmathieu, has been identified as Valjean. It throws him into disarray - how is it possible? For once he begins to question himself - has he been mistaken? He can't quite believe it - his heart convinces himself that he is not wrong, but the black and white of ink and paper state otherwise.

He pretends not to notice the relief in Monsieur-le-Maire's gaze as he confesses his error.

Curiously enough, his offer of resignation is not accepted. Why does Valjean - Monsieur-le-Maire - wish to keep him on? Surely it would be of greater benefit to dismiss him? He searches for an answer on his superior's face, and finds he cannot read him.

But then, the Mayor reveals himself to be Valjean after all - to the shock and confusion of all the townsfolk, and to the irritation of Javert. Nothing is straightforward with that man - first, apparent desperation to hide his true identity, then rushing into a courtroom like a madman to inform the whole world who he really is. What is the point? To save a fellow convict? It seems barely worth it - had Valjean kept his mouth shut, he might have been able to preserve his position and fortune for several more years. Now, however - why is it that Javert suddenly feels relieved?

Naturally, he pursues Valjean, who begs for time to go after the daughter of some prostitute he has only just met. Javert refuses, of course. Not only is it is duty, which he believes in and fulfills without hesitation, but he does not want Valjean out of his sight either. _You shall not escape me_, he vows.

So Valjean runs. And then the unthinkable - Valjean runs and jumps headlong into the river, allowing the dark waters to swallow him up. Javert only manages to check himself at the edge, and tells himself that the clench in his heart is because of how close to drowning he knows he came, rather than the thought that Valjean might never surface again.

* * *

Javert follows the instructions the prostitute gave Valjean before her death, finding the slovenly Thernadiers - and himself too late. Valjean has taken the orphaned girl and left - Javert has never doubted that Valjean would go to fetch the child. Somehow, he knows that is exactly what Valjean would do, even though he doesn't understand - and wishes he could - why.

Regardless, Javert continues hounding after Valjean. The hunt leads them onto a chase all around and through the streets, until Valjean disappears, and no matter how hard Javert searches, it is as though he has vanished into thin air.

Pacing back and forth on the roofs, he swears that he shall never yield in his pursuit, that by the stars he shall find Valjean. He is sure that his dissatisfaction is merely the adrenaline wearing off, not disappointment at having no idea when he might see Valjean again.

* * *

Rather damningly, the next time Javert meets Valjean, it is with a rope around his neck, and Valjean just having been awarded both a firearm and the responsibility of executing Javert.

Valjean suggests handling the matter alone. For one terribly unfortunate moment, the most unholy scene leaps to Javert's mind: Valjean grabbing him and pressing him up against the wall, taking him as roughly as possible, him moaning through clenched teeth.

Immediately he shakes that out of his mind. It's not possible - not right - he is almost terrified for a moment, then begins to pray that his thoughts don't show on his face. Valjean seems oblivious, but then tells him to leave - even when it is in his every right to shoot Javert, he chooses to let him go.

_Why?_ Valjean ought to execute him. Valjean _has_ to. Javert has endured enough - the dreams that constantly torment him by night, and the thoughts by day are unbearable. Ever since the day he lost Valjean and the girl in the streets, he has not enjoyed a good night's sleep. He cannot forget. He cannot stop thinking. Valjean - Valjean is all he contemplates. And not in ways limited to his duty, or his morals. He knows he should not, but he cannot help it - it is horrible, despicable, a sure sign of corrupting weakness, but nothing can alleviate it. Every day passes in a mixture of shame, disgust, disbelief and anticipation. For years he has been waiting, searching for the day he might find Valjean again. And so he has - but under such awful circumstances.

Javert makes it clear that he will not give up the chase. Valjean accept this calmly - and with something nearly akin to understanding in his eyes.

As he ducks around a corner, Valjean fires - and blows away a bit of brick. He wishes Valjean had missed and hit him instead.

* * *

When he returns with the soldiers, he instantly goes to inspect the bodies found at the barricade. Valjean is not there - rather, it seems, that he has chosen to go down the sewers.

The natural thing to do is wait on the other side, sword drawn, for Valjean to exit. Then he shall be caught, condemned, and returned to prison, where he rightly belongs.

Somehow Javert does not relish the thought.

He desperately tries to distract himself from any suggestion of Jean Valjean in his mind as he waits, gripping his sword so hard his arm feels it might turn to rock and his fingers begin to tremble. _Banish your foolish fantasies,_ he orders himself. _How can you allow this man to hold dominion over you?_

It is both a curse and a relief when Valjean finally appears, carrying a near-dead boy on his back, and begging for time to take the boy to a safe place. Javert knows he ought to refuse - duty demands that Valjean be arrested on the spot - but he hesitates. He doubts.

He lets Valjean go.

When it comes to a choice of harming Valjean, and forever damning himself, it seems that the latter is easier.

* * *

He is on the edge of the bridge, and on the edge of his nerves. He cannot kill Valjean - he cannot even arrest him anymore. But at the same time he cannot possibly allow Valjean to go free - it would forever be a blot on his record, a blot in the eyes of his superiors, a blot on the part of his mind that is still attuned to following duty without question.

And Valjean, the only man worthy of removing him from the face of the earth, refuses to touch him. Not permitting him death, nor what he might desire. There is no chance of getting rid of this irredeemably sinful body, nor purging it of its wrongdoing, nor fulfilling what it wants.

_My heart is stone and still it trembles._ Stone, hardened by years of service, duty, and watching horrors befall this beloved city? Or because he sees no way out now - the head damns him for his unruly, filthy thoughts, the heart damns him for not being able to go beyond thoughts.

And no, no, Jean shall never know. He will never know about any of this - is it a blessing, or the final nail in the coffin?

Javert suspects that he is falling to pieces.

So he takes a step forward, hoping the Seine can wash all those pieces away.


End file.
